Frozen
by softasthunder
Summary: She laughs softly. "Tate how are you stuck in the 90's; it's 2011 you've had to heard of some of the things I show you."


**Disclaimer: I do not own any original American Horror Story characters that may appear in this story.**

**Claimer: The remainder of this story including: plot, dialogue, & OC characters, is my original work.**

**No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Author: <em>**_softasthunder_

**_Pairing: _**_Violate_

**_Timeline: _**_Between of 1x08-1x10 _

Frozen

Excision & Downlink — Existence VIP

"_Salvation is reserved for those who past the test,_

_If you survive an elevated existence awaits."_

_.-._

The first time Tate hears this song, he wonders what it is. Violet had been playing it while they were lighting up a few days ago, and he brings it when they're laying on the grass, cloud watching.

Her head turns to face him, "What do you mean?"

He repeats his question; "That thing you were playing when we were smoking. I've never heard something like that."

She laughs softly. "Tate how are you stuck in the 90's; it's 2011 you've had to heard of some of the things I show you."

He smiles at her, it's a mix of bittersweet and amusement. Violet doesn't get why he's smiling like that over a song, but whatever. He's Tate. "Guess I'm just stuck in time."

She shrugs, "That's okay. I kinda am too, but you know…" She trails off before bringing the topic back.

"Dubstep," She says, "A lot of it is like a remix of an original song with synthsongs, drops and well it's just like a song made up of beats basically."

He nods. "We should go to a concert for them sometime. I know Lotus is coming into town so maybe we can go," Violet says. She grins, looking a bit excited at the prospect of them leaving her property to hang out.

Tate shifts uncomfortably, "Yeah maybe."

She faces him, eyebrows furrowing. "Don't bullshit me Tate," She demands, sitting up. "If you don't want to go can you just say so; I only brought it up because of Halloween. I thought it'd be nice especially without the Breakfast Club."

He looks at her and for the first time _really _feels the rush of regret shooting up his house—if he hadn't died she would be dating someone who wasn't permanently stuck at sixteen and not being able to leave her house. She would be with someone who could go to school with her, take her out on dates, and buy her little things. She wouldn't be stuck with some guy who lived in her basement and couldn't even take a walk with her.

"I said maybe, Violet." He snaps, angry at himself, angry at her, angry the stupid house, angry at his mom, angry at everything.

Her eyes light up with furiousness. "Don't talk to me like that. I'm not the one who has freaks following him around and fucking sneak into people's basements at midnight. God Tate why can't we ever do anything normal. I'm bored of sitting around playing cards. I want to go out to concerts with you and fucking I don't know, do normal shit."

She's blushing at her wants, but manages to keep her back straight. All she wanted was for Tate to take her out. She hated being in the house with her all the time, sick of her room, sick of not having adventures with him.

He sits up too, eyes growing angry. "What's that suppose to mean? You hate spending time talking to me? I do a fuckload for you and all your little bullshit." He spits and they're both standing up now, fighting.

Everyone can see Tate now and Constance is looking through her window, making sure Tate doesn't lose his temper on the girl.

"All I want is for us to go out. I'm sick of constantly being here Tate! I'm not asking for fucking fancy bullshit, I'd rather take a walk in the park with you but we can't even do that!"

"Well sorry Violet, I'm fucking sorry. If you want some superficial little bitch to take you out instead of what we have, then go!"

His eyes are rimming in red, and Violet's cheeks are rushing with blood.

"Goddammit Tate!" She screams, "Why can't we fucking do anything? _I'll _pay for the tickets if that's the problem, okay?"

She cries when she's frustrated and now she's about to start ripping her hair out. All she wanted was to get out of the house with him.

Tate is glaring at her, hands shaking beside him. He's breathing hard and she can tell he's close to snapping. She straightens her back and she's fierce again, not crying, not screaming.

She's icy and furious and _fuck _all she wants it for Tate and her to get the hell out of this house.

"Tate," She says coldly, "If we don't go out one more time, I swear to God, I will find one of those superficial boys that have no problem walking outside."

She knows it's a low blow, but at this point she doesn't even care. She wants to go out and nothing else.

Tate's eyes widen, and he completely stops for an entire second before slowly walking up to her, a dangerous look in his normally loving brown eyes.

For the first time with him, she feels fear root itself in her. Fear of Tate hurting her.

Constance is running across the lawn, "Tate," She calls, her Southern accent richly coating her fear. "Tate, honey, come home now."

He ignores his mother and carries own his stalking towards his girlfriend.

"You want to go out?" He asks again, voice low and dark.

She nods, arms crossed across her chest.

"Fine." He says, "Tomorrow, we'll go out. We'll go to the fucking park, and get some dinner and I'll drive you around and we can make out."

He spins around before Violet can respond, and Constance grabs him by the forearm and drags him away from Violet's fuming form.

"Honey," She begins, smiling a bit strained. "Tate, what are you doing telling her this?"

He's glaring at her too, becoming even more furious just by looking at her. It was her fault too. Her fault that Violet's left with nothing but disappointments from the one person that she should always be able to count on.

"I'll figure it out." She looks at him with sadness in her eyes. She knew that all he was going to do was upset Violet even further.

She's looking at her model of perfection and puts a dainty hand on his forearm, which he is quick to shake off.

He looks up at the house. "I don't know, Mom. Somehow okay? Somehow this stupid haunted shithole is going to do me one fucking favor for everything I've done for it." He says, aiming a kick to the outside walls.

Constance sighs, patting the back of her hair. "Well good luck with that." She says, tired, drained. She's always been drained by Tate.

She turns and leaves him staring at the house.

"You better fucking help me out. She's the only thing I've ever wanted and I'm going to make her happy."

He gives the house a final glare before disappearing into the air.

.-.

They're walking on the steps and Tate knows that he's not going to be able to leave, but he's going to fucking try.

Past the gate and holy shit he's on the sidewalk with Violet, who's grin is so wide it looks like it just might split her face.

He twirls her to him, "I'm sorry for being such an asshole to you yesterday," He says, lovingly caressing her cheek.

She smiles at him, "Don't worry about it." Leaning on her toes his arms tighten around her waist, they kiss.

They're walking down and before Tate could even get the keys to the car from his mom, who somewhat frozen with shock that Tate is out of the house, holding a girl's hand, waiting for keys, she comes back and Violet is looking for him.

"Violet," Constance calls, "Where's Tate?"

Violet's wide eyes look at her, deep with confusion. "I—I don't know! One second he was here, then he looked at the house and he was gone!"

Violet's crouching on her patio, calling for Tate, who Constance sees, is looking at her sadly from the property, eyes filled with tears.

He sits down and waits for Violet to notice him.


End file.
